


Be the Ophiuchus Troll.

by arcaneScribbler



Series: Player Count 8 + 2 [10]
Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Everyone lives, Fix-It, Gen, Hal is a cheeky lil shit, Hurt/Comfort, Jigsaw the stallion, PTSD?, Post-Sburb, Trichotillomania, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, because umm yeah, blink-blink is Khaleb-ese for 'I trust you with my life', blood mention, hints of fic/'verse-marriage, if any other tags are needed please tell me!, post-victory, probably in conjunction with Rogue of Doom stuff going on offscreen, sorry I'm still terrible with tags, swallowing death-lasers is not recommended, that happened, to hide how concerned he actually is, use of Mindey Thing to rescue doomed Players, what are emotions how do they work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 18:16:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3660282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcaneScribbler/pseuds/arcaneScribbler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cherubs were never meant to play the Game. Cherubs were never meant to grow up within a healthy universe. Cherubs were <em>definitely</em> never meant to coexist without one overtaking the other, or to be social.</p><p>'Malevolent' cherubs don't put others' safety before their own. They don't feel lonely. They <em>certainly</em> don't cry.</p><p>Ready for the shitty twist?</p><p>You're not a cherub anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be the Ophiuchus Troll.

**Author's Note:**

> No, this isn't an April Fool's Day joke. ^.^; I just have bad timing.
> 
>  **Trigger warning:** There is mention of trichotillomania (hair-pulling disorder) in this fic. Sorry.
> 
> Anyway, I hope ya'll enjoy the fic!
> 
>  **EDIT 04/19/2015:** Tweaked the Hal bits in the beginning portion to all be him doing the Mindey Thing, colored the tiny Heartey Thing Dirk did to show that he was doing so; updated my custom workskin so that I have all the Aspect colors, etc., set up and available.

=>

_Pain. Agonizing, excruciating pain. Then— nothing. (Nothing, and no one.)_

_(((((((((((You stay like that for a long, long time— or maybe no time at all. ‘Time’ doesn’t really exist, here in nowhere.)))))))))))_

(......-y.)

_(((((((((((But then something changes, and a faint flicker of consciousness sparks back to life.)))))))))))_

Hey, asshole! Time to wake up!

_(—There’s... a voice. Talking inside your head. (You’d forgotten you even **had** a head.))_

Wow, your brain is a piping hot mess. What the fuck even happened?

_(It’s hard to think. To remember things. To feel. (Too hard. No point. Easier to let that loud voice do the thinking; it can do whatever it wants, you’re done. (So tired...)))_

No can do, broseph. Come on, upsy daisy.

_(But then... then it starts getting a little easier.)_

It took AGES to track you down, b-t-dubs. In meatsack time, even.

_...what...?_

Tricky as hell, too. In all honesty, it’s been a major pain in the ass.

_... **what**...??_

Hella suspicious if you ask me. The system seems pre-tty damn determined to keep you squirreled away in there. Any idea why?

_You don’t understand the voice’s babbling._

Oooof course you don’t. All that work for no answers and a douche in tacky pjs. Sigh.

_At all. (It’s... annoying. You’re... you’re getting... annoyed. It’s pushing out the numbness...)_

...One could even assume that you didn’t want to be found.

_Was that the voice’s plan all along? To annoy you into thinking? (Somehow, the thought makes you **more** annoyed.) Because if it is, it’s... it’s working. You’re annoyed. And... frustrated. Annoyed and frustrated (((andscaredsoscared)))._

Did you not want to be found, Caliborn?

_...!!_

_Cal...ib...orn. Caliborn. That’s..._

_(That’s_ you _. (isn’t it?) Caliborn is... you. (You’d forgotten...))_

Dude. Throw me a bone here. Talking to myself is only so entertaining for so long before it gets awkward.

.....

Hellllooooo!

.......

Paradox Space to the cherubrat, come in cherubrat.

...........

Cherubrat, do you copy?

...........sh......

_Responding to the voice is... not easy. (So tired...)_

Behold! He _lives!_

.....shu...t... ...p...

Let me think about that for a nanosec.

_Annoying..._

_**Naaaah.** _

_So annoying... (Why won’t he let you sleep? )_

_(((((((((((You’re still too hazed to notice yourself beginning to remember.)))))))))))_

...shutup...

And let you slip back into coma mode? Yeah, how about no.

_(Want to sleep... (don’t you?))_

...shutupshutupshutup...

_...You think... You think you might... know this voice... This annoying, noisy voice..._

Nope.

_(No, not the voice... the one speaking.)_

shutupstupidshades...

Answer’s still no, dude. 

ssshhhHhh...

_Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb!_

ssSHutttTTttuuuppPPpp...

_**Mary had a little lamb who subscribed to GameBro!**_

SHuT uP!

That’s more like it. Hear the sarcastic applause? It means you did... adequately. On Easy Mode.

SHuT. uP. SHuT uP. SHuT uP. SHuT uP...

_Stupid, annoying voice, stupid, annoying light._

_(((((((((((You’re not sure when you started being able to see again, either.))))))))))_

Y’know what? Sure. Why the hell not.

_(You’re... bristling. ...Angry. You’re angry. (Why?))_

**LIAR.**

Aww, still don’t trust me, cherubrat? Rude.

LI— _nngh-...!!_

_ (—YOuRLIESAREREDASTHEHERRINGYOuREPRESENT—) _

_You— wh- what... was that..._

Easy there, tiger. You’re pushing too hard.

_The tone... changed. (What does it... mean...?)_

_(((((((((((The light is getting brighter and brighter...))))))))))_

I never thought I’d be saying this to you of all people, but sorry for putting you through all this.

_You don’t..._

Needed to get you awake enough to ensure a stable connection. No point dragging it out any further than necessary; time to get this show on the road.

_...don’t understand..._

Dirk, you ready?

_(“...-born ready, dude. ...-take me for?”)_

_...!_

_(D...irk.... You- you know that name...)_

Sweet. Let’s do this thing. We’re making it happen. In three, two...

_S-so bright-!!_

_(((((((((((And just like that, you aren’t alone anymore.)))))))))))_

=>

_(“...-ey. Uu.”)_

_You— you can’t make sense of this._

_(“...-hear me?”)_

_This— In front of you, is— you can’t— you don’t—_

_(“...-p out of it.”)_

_(scaredsoscaredterrified)_

“ **Caliborn** .”

_That gets your attention._

_“Focus. Eyes on me.”_

_(You’re not sure why you’re doing what he says. You just... are.)_

_“Can you walk?”_

_“.....”_

_(You... don’t remember how to... ‘speak.’ You’re not sure you can. Thinking loudly at the voice was hard enough...)_

_“I’ll take that as a no. That’s fine, I can— hey, what did I say? Eyes on me. You can sleep all you want once we’re out.”_

_You’re so **tired**..._

_“Caliborn. Caliborn. Eyes. On. Me.”_

_(You wonder why he’s moving his hands like that...)_

_“There. As I was saying, I can work with that. You just need to do one thing for me, alright? Blink twice if you understand.”_

_“....”_

_You blink twice, slowly. (It feels like... trying to move something really heavy.)_

_“Good. Now listen. What I need you to do is simple, but important. You could even say it’s vital. Got it?”_

_...Blink. ...Blink._

_“Perfect. Now, here’s what you need to do. Simplest thing there is. I need you to trust me.”_

_...Huh?? What does that—_

=>

_What little excuse there is for a world tilts dizzyingly (whatisthatwhat’stouchingyouwhat’sgoingon?!) and— and you’re being carried. Dirk is— Dirk is carrying you. Towards that bright, burning light—_

=> Caliborn: Flip your shit. 

_You don’t struggle._

_You don’t struggle, even as the light gets closer and closer and that panicked, frightened need to retreat back into the numb nothing grows and grows. You don’t fight. You don’t do anything at all._

_(Scaredsoscaredneedtofighttorunto— trust him. Need to trust him. (Need to trust him, but you don’t know what ‘trust’ **is**.) Just- trust him.)_

_And then it’s right there, so close, about to touch you (burnyouup) and you need to need to need to-!_

_(—trust him trust him trust him—)_

_Something bubbles up in your throat, something like a scream, like a—_

_(You remember. You remember Death roaring from open jaws. You know what this is.)_

_You choke the laser back down with a strength you didn’t know you had._

_You don’t struggle._

_Dirk carries you into the light._

_And then—_

=>

_And then that light is all around everywhere everything reaching inside you not burning not hurting just just looking for something looking and looking and you know when it finds it you know because it hurts it hurts burned something out of you just one thing just one not you just one thing inside something dark green black like an empty-eyed skull but it keeps keeps going not done keeps looking and—_

=>

You don’t notice your heart resuming its beat.

You don’t notice Dirk’s muttered curse, or the exhausted mumble of a not-quite-stranger’s voice.

You don’t notice the desperate, strangled gasps and smoke-laden coughs coming from your mouth as you struggle to breathe.

You don’t notice the _zzap_ of a Possibility reached, or the muffled thump of a small body hitting the ground.

You don’t notice yourself shivering, or the taste of iron sitting thick and wet on your tongue from a burned throat.

You don’t notice the coolness in your cheeks as circles become spirals, or the fleeting flicker of pain as your blood tries to revert to _her_ color, thwarted by bright sparks of electric teal.

You don’t notice the air against your skin, or the sensation of movement as you’re carefully set down.

In all honesty, you don’t notice much of anything.

You just...

Sleep.

(Inside, Mind’s power systematically eliminates the indicators that would register you to the Game as a doomed entity— and stumbles across a more favorable outcome hidden in the hollow emptiness of a soul never meant to be a soul.)

(Warmth spreads sluggishly, faint and fragile, as doomed red drains away in fleeting flickers of lime— and remains, steadying and strengthening as the last dregs of dizzying technicolor poison fade into the past.  Slowly, hesitantly, the gaps left behind by retreating crimson begin to fill with shy glimmers of...)

=>

You sleep, and sleep, and sleep. (Except you aren’t asleep. You’re _changing._ The body of half of an adolescent cherub named Caliborn is nothing but a chrysalis now.)

Gamzee is the one to carry you through the Door when the time comes. (He’s still fond of the little snakelet he helped raise, multiple bullet wounds and, well, _everything_ bedamned.)

On April 13th, 2011 (relative to this universe, at least), SBURB’s longest running Session comes to an end (well, almost) alongside what might well be its strangest.

You remain asleep while your ‘self’ (slowly developing into a true Heart) settles into a body that is no longer that of an incomplete, ‘defective,’ eternally-adolescent cherub.

It’s nighttime when you wake up, on April 15th. (You should know the exact time, right down to the second, the _millisecond_. (You don’t.))

=>

\-- undyingUmbrage [uu] began jeering timaeusTestified [TT] at __:__ CST --  
uu: DIRK. I WANT TO PLAY A GAME.  
\-- timaeusTestified [TT] is an idle chum! --  
uu: THIS GAME. IS NOT ONE OF MY uSuAL GAMES.  
uu: HONESTLY. IT IS A REALLY SHITTY GAME. BuT IT HAS. ITS uSES.  
uu: THIS GAME. IS CALLED TWENTY QuESTIONS.  
uu: OF COuRSE, SINCE IT IS A SHITTY GAME. NOT WORTHY OF MY TALENTS. I HAVE CONDENSED ALL TWENTY SHITTY QuESTIONS. INTO ONE SIMPLE. GLORIOuS DEMAND.  
uu: DIRK.  
uu: _WHAT. HAPPENED._  
TT: Wow. And here I was starting to think you weren't going to wake up.  
uu: OF COuRSE. I WOKE uP. WHO. DO YOu TAKE ME FOR. MY BITCH SISTER?  
uu: ANSWER MY QuESTION. DIRK.  
TT: Alright, suit yourself. Better strap in; it's a long, wild ride.

=> Days in the future... 

(But not many)

Your name is ~~Caliborn~~ ~~Khaleb Burnne~~ ~~Caliborn~~ ~~Khaleb Burrne~~ ~~Caliborn~~ _just Khaleb_ and you hate everything. Platonically. (And kind of tiredly. A little.)

It's nighttime. You don't feel like sleeping. You think your bitch sister is. Asleep. She's asleep. _(ofcoursesheisyou'reawakesoshehastobeasleepthat'showitworks)_

You took a walk. Sat with Jigsaw a while. The usual. Leg was giving you trouble. Took it off. (Threw it against a wall.) Went outside.

Which is where you are now. Outside. In the middle of the night. (Again.) The weather is... itself. Nice, probably. Moon's bright. Isn't raining.

...Moonlight doesn't change much. Your skin is still gray as gray can be. You're not even sure anymore if you'd rather it be green. (It scares you— or it would, if you were a weak scared weakling like your bitch sister, which you completely are not, because you're better than that and better than her, even if she's better at making spirals (her touch (anyone's) makes your skin crawl, but it's so much _better_ to have your spirals, you don't feel like yourself without your spirals), just a little ~~_(in all truth you're terrified)_~~.)

You... might possibly have been yelling at one point. Or two. Or ten. You don't really remember. Things can get... hazy. (How long have you been awake so far, again? You're Time, Lord of Time, you should know this. ~~_(Except you're not something changed you're **changing** and it **scares** you so much.)_~~ )

...Oh. Whoops. Blood in your mouth.

Ptoo. There goes the dumb tooth again.

(You don't even notice the sting at your scalp, or that you're pulling.)

You get the feeling it's going to be a long night.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: the ex-cherubs' full names in this 'verse are Callie Ohphee-Massis and Khaleb Burnne-Massis, referring to Calmasis. Also, Khaleb often wears red contacts.


End file.
